D r o w n i n g
by All The Good Names Taken
Summary: Let me tell you about dying and words. Because they are immensely complicated." Dark Doctor slightly . Experimenting with a new style of writing. Bascially, The Doctor's thoughts when he was being rained down on by the Thames. Shades of suicidal themes.


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D r o w n i n g

- - -

What does it mean?

Dying.

Any doctor would tell you it means when the body stops functioning.

But I_, The _Doctor, will tell you what _exactly_ it means,

To die.

I have died. Many times. And I have never experienced any of these "out-of-body" sensations. I was always aware of what was going on all around me. I knew who was there, what had happened, what was _going _to happen.

Death is no stranger to me.

But one thing I never truly understood, yet know so well, is that death comes in many forms.

It is _not _merely just the function of a body ceasing.

No.

Unfortunately, death is far, far more complicated than that.

I regret many things. Things I've done, things I've seen. Things I've said.

The person who said the famous quote;

__

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words shall never hurt me."

Was an idiot.

Words _do _hurt. But not because they're insulting, or vulgar.

(Though those words are just as unpleasant)

No.

Words are not simply letters strung together to make a sentence.

Words, (like death), are far more complicated than that.

There are five words that can cause the most pain.

I

Love.

You.

I'm.

Sorry.

If you hear any of those five words in a sentence, you know nothing good is coming next.

But not all words are bad.

(Just like dying isn't all bad).

In fact, there are some words I love!

(No, despite their evil, those two words mean no harm at this present moment).

These words include;

Allons-y

Molto bene.

Boozoolium.

Marmalade.

Bananas.

Rose.

All wonderful words, that float above you like a good luck charm whenever you say them.

But words, as I said before, are complicated. And their meaning can change.

"Allons-y" could easily become an order to run for your life, rather than the pleasant French phrase.

"Molto bene" could easily be switched to sarcasm.

"Boozoolium" could easily mean a simple gift, but can change to metal crafted into a blade

"Marmalade" could easily become the name of a nasty cat.

(I don't like cats).

"Bananas"- No, sorry. Bananas could never be evil.

(Like I said, complicated).

Rose.

Rose could be a flower, a scent, a colour, a lip-gloss, a gift.

A name.

But names are still words. And words have meanings. Meanings can aspire many emotions. When I hear the word, or name, "Rose", I don't think of it's absolute meaning. I think of the emotions it triggers and the things it _means _to _me. _

Love.

(The nasty little emotion is what we'll call it due to it's evil.)

Happiness. Peace. Revenge. Lust. Grief. Lost. Apple-grass. TARDIS. Perfection. Pink. Death.

Home.

Colours, places, feelings and words. All their meanings summed up in one word.

Rose.

And what a _beautiful _word to sum it all up.

Words. Death.

They are not different.

Nor are they the same.

In fact, they are so immensely complicated that they're differences make them the same and they're similarities make them opposites.

Complicated.

(A fun word to say in itself, if I may add this small note).

Complicated is the word to sum up me. Along with other words, but there are many, many words that could describe me.

(Brilliant, handsome, etc.)

Now that I have the immense complications of words out of the way, I can move into the immense complications of death.

Think of everything you have ever been told about death.

(You know, like how Floppy "had to go to Farmer Pat's farm").

And ignore it.

Because it's all wrong.

Yes, death is considered to be when the heart stops beating. But just because something is breathing does not mean it's _alive_.

Which brings me to where I am now.

Yesterday I died.

I stared into the eyes of a Rose and died.

I died silently.

Her name being the last words to leave my lips as a living man.

(Thus why I described the complications of words so you would understand the _meaning _of that).

I cried out the two words I truly loved.

The two words that could ever truly kill me.

The two words that made me think of everything I had ever wanted, had and lost.

__

"Rose Tyler…"

Death.

It came cold and gripping, like great hands grasping your lungs and making you gasp in shock.

This is the connection between Words and Death.

You cannot have one without the other.

Even when you' re sitting on their bedside, weeping as they fade away silently, there are still words.

Names and places. Colours and feelings.

Words that described the person you loved.

Words that made them come to life.

And when everything fell silent, and the two words hung limp and distant in the air

They struck.

And I died.

Killed by the two words that brought me life.

There is no one left to weep for me now.

She has already wept.

For I have already died.

She watched me die and fade away.

Why should I expect her to cry now?

Humans.

If she knew she _would _cry.

(If she knew).

Humans and their confidence that death is only true when the heart, (or _hearts) _have stopped beating.

The water is heavy.

Crashing down on me in weights and teardrops.

"Doctor!"

I look down at her.

"You can stop now!"

The words:

__

"I can't"

Slip mutely from my mouth.

But,

I can.

I look down at her again,

Hair like blood.

Temper like fire.

Heart of Rose.

__

Donna Noble.

Two lovely, new words.

Two lovely, new, _life-giving _words.

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Review please!


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